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That's right, folks, I'm back!!
Life still sucks, but I figured I'd post a quick thread with a few stories concerning some of the SCs I've had to deal with in the last couple of weeks. Brace yourselves, and away we go!!
Story the first: What part of "out of order" are we not getting? or "You sexist bastard!"
Guy enters store. Guy goes to the bathrooms, both of which have Out of Order written on them. (Something in the sewer system causing problems with the toilets, but not the sinks. Property manager is sending out plumbers sometime this week) He stops at the men's restroom door. Reads the sign, tugs on the door, which is naturally locked. Turns to the women's restroom, sees the sign, tugs on the door (the lock is broken) and goes inside.
I was unaware of this, so I head to the women's restroom and go to rinse out the mug we were storing Goo Gone in from a broken bottle, and boy do I get a surprise...
Me:
DB: Douchebag male customer
DB: Hey, do you mind? I'm taking a leak here!
Me:
Uh...sir...? The toilet's aren't working. That's why the signs are on the doors.
DB: Yeah, well this one was open, so it's fair game. <Zips up> Besides, I figure the women's can't be busted. Girls can't hold it like guys can, so they obviously need somewhere to go, and go often.
Me: <speechless, both at his insult, and the irony that he couldn't hold it long enough to go else where, either...>
DB: <Flushes...and gets the burbling bowl o' doom spewing noxious ooky stuff all over his skechers. He yelps and jumps back> What this shit?
Me: Yep, probably what it is, now would you kindly get OUT of the busted bathroom!!
DB: <Makes some generic rabble about how we're not giving good customer service, owe him compensation, etc, etc...you know, the usual. Luckily, he's promptly ignored and is escorted out of the store, smelly skechers and all>
Story the Second: Again, read much...? or "cooler go 'splodey!"
So, it's a Sunday. I'm restocking coolers, cleaning the store, it's quiet, and very few customers. As I'm cleaning out one cooler, I notice that some of the drinks are turning WAY to frosty, as I'm looking for the switch to adjust the temperature, I hear a weird, muffled bang. Yeah, the rootbeers exploded. They're the old-fashioned glass bottle kind, so when they went boom, they went EVERYWHERE. Including all over me! I got drenched, and between cleaning that up, and cleaning tags off books with goo goon, I alternated between smelling like rootbeer and rabid oranges. FUN.
So, I cleaned what I could, unplugged the machine, and MOD said he would call the vendor to fix the machine. Great. I made an out of order sign, put it on the door and closed it.
Naturally, about an hour later, this woman comes in, goes straight to that cooler, LOOKS AT THE SIGN, and pulls out some drinks. I warn her when she's checking out why it was out of order, that we couldn't gaurantee the drinks, and she said that was fine and bought them anyway. Twenty minutes later, she's back...
Me:
Her: The illiterate EW
EW: I want a refund!! <Snarlrantwhine> they's no good!
Me: <Sticky, smelling like rootbeer and generally unhappy that something blew up on me> No. You were warned. You bought them anyway. And it looks like you drank most of them.
EW: Gimme your manager!
Me: <I page MOD, whom I'd kept informed of the whole situation, because we figured she'd be back...>
EW: <Opens her mouth to scream>
MOD: <Cuts her off> No. Sorry, ma'am, but you were told the situation, and you bought them anyway, and drank them, we can't refund the cost.
EW: <Insert more snarling/ranting/swearing to get us fired, burned at the stake and hung for treason, etc, etc...again...the usual...>
We gave her our corporate number, but MOD already sent them an email apprising them of the cooler incident, so as soon as she left, he was writing off another email and sending it to our district manager. So far, no word that she's been rewarded, we're getting fired, or of firewood being gathered, so I think we're safe.
Variations on a theme...
so, our registers are set up so we swipe credit cards on the actual machine (so we can verify ID, etc) and debit cards have their own machine to swipe on. Unfortunately, it's two different keys I push, and I have to set it up. On the debit machines, we have HUGE printed signs, saying "Debit Cards Here ONLY" and still people start swiping and doing whatever before I can set up the machine. Generally, I'll ask, "Is that debit or credit?" And these are some of the more...colorful responses I've gotten...
SC1: None of your business! I already ran it!
Me: Actually, ma'am, it isn't run until I set up the program to run, so...credit or debit?
SC1: Debit!!
OR
SC2: It doesn't matter! <Cheerfully swipes before I can do anything and plunks the card back into the wallet/purse o' doom.
Me: Um...I have to set up the machine, ma'am, I need the card so it can be run again.
SC2: <Huffs> Well, you're pretty useless then, aren't you?
Me: :Confused:
OR
SC3: Credit! <Swipes, and when nothing happens, KEEPS swiping!!>
Me: I'm sorry, sir, I need to run credit cards up here, on a separate--
SC3: I told you, it's credit!!!
Me: I know, sir, I need to--
SC3: Your F@%ING machine is BROKEN!!
Me: Well, let me run it straight through the register then, shall I, and manually push it through?
SC3: Fine! <Finally sees the sign> What? Debit only here?Why didn't you say something before??!!!11?!?
Me:
Seriously, I'm NOT askign for my health, people, if you want the transaction completed answer the damn question and stop acting like I'm trying to steal your soul!!!
And finally..."Stop ogling my ass!!"
So, we're in the middle of returns here at the store, meaning we've got boxes and pallets of books EVERYWHERE. In the aisles, on the endcaps, on the counter, etc. As such, we generally keep the section closed off, since it's a safety issue for customers. Had a guy come in looking for a book, and when I found out it was in an aisle containing a pallet, I told him I'd get it for him. He follows me, ( i didn't realize this). I climb the pallet, bend over the shelves and snag the book. It was literally the ONLY way to get to it, because there wasn't walking room in this section of the store.
I bring the book back, and hand it to him, and apologize for the delay.
Him: That's all right, I was enjoying the view!
Me: Uh...what...?
Him: You have a VERY lovely ass...
Me: ....
Him: Seriously, it's beautiful
Me: ....???
Him: So...how often are you here? <He says, with a strange gleam in his eye>
Me: Uh...you can pay for your book at the front registers, sir, thankyouforshoppingwithushaveagoodday,ohlook,Igoov ertherenowandstockbooks!! kthxbye!! <Flees>
I...don't quite know what to make of it, but he was really obsessed with my butt. Thankfully, he hasn't been back in the store, and I was able to point him out to the textbook manager, who says next time he's there, if I'm there, I'll have a special project in the back room until he's gone...
That's all for now, I'll try to post a few more stories tonight!! Off to lunch with a friend, who's starting to stare laser beams into my back...Laters!!
Life still sucks, but I figured I'd post a quick thread with a few stories concerning some of the SCs I've had to deal with in the last couple of weeks. Brace yourselves, and away we go!!
Story the first: What part of "out of order" are we not getting? or "You sexist bastard!"
Guy enters store. Guy goes to the bathrooms, both of which have Out of Order written on them. (Something in the sewer system causing problems with the toilets, but not the sinks. Property manager is sending out plumbers sometime this week) He stops at the men's restroom door. Reads the sign, tugs on the door, which is naturally locked. Turns to the women's restroom, sees the sign, tugs on the door (the lock is broken) and goes inside.
I was unaware of this, so I head to the women's restroom and go to rinse out the mug we were storing Goo Gone in from a broken bottle, and boy do I get a surprise...
Me:
DB: Douchebag male customer
DB: Hey, do you mind? I'm taking a leak here!
Me:
Uh...sir...? The toilet's aren't working. That's why the signs are on the doors.DB: Yeah, well this one was open, so it's fair game. <Zips up> Besides, I figure the women's can't be busted. Girls can't hold it like guys can, so they obviously need somewhere to go, and go often.
Me:
<speechless, both at his insult, and the irony that he couldn't hold it long enough to go else where, either...>DB: <Flushes...and gets the burbling bowl o' doom spewing noxious ooky stuff all over his skechers. He yelps and jumps back> What this shit?
Me: Yep, probably what it is, now would you kindly get OUT of the busted bathroom!!
DB: <Makes some generic rabble about how we're not giving good customer service, owe him compensation, etc, etc...you know, the usual. Luckily, he's promptly ignored and is escorted out of the store, smelly skechers and all>
Story the Second: Again, read much...? or "cooler go 'splodey!"
So, it's a Sunday. I'm restocking coolers, cleaning the store, it's quiet, and very few customers. As I'm cleaning out one cooler, I notice that some of the drinks are turning WAY to frosty, as I'm looking for the switch to adjust the temperature, I hear a weird, muffled bang. Yeah, the rootbeers exploded. They're the old-fashioned glass bottle kind, so when they went boom, they went EVERYWHERE. Including all over me! I got drenched, and between cleaning that up, and cleaning tags off books with goo goon, I alternated between smelling like rootbeer and rabid oranges. FUN.
So, I cleaned what I could, unplugged the machine, and MOD said he would call the vendor to fix the machine. Great. I made an out of order sign, put it on the door and closed it.
Naturally, about an hour later, this woman comes in, goes straight to that cooler, LOOKS AT THE SIGN, and pulls out some drinks. I warn her when she's checking out why it was out of order, that we couldn't gaurantee the drinks, and she said that was fine and bought them anyway. Twenty minutes later, she's back...
Me:
Her: The illiterate EW
EW: I want a refund!! <Snarlrantwhine> they's no good!
Me: <Sticky, smelling like rootbeer and generally unhappy that something blew up on me> No. You were warned. You bought them anyway. And it looks like you drank most of them.
EW: Gimme your manager!
Me: <I page MOD, whom I'd kept informed of the whole situation, because we figured she'd be back...>
EW: <Opens her mouth to scream>
MOD: <Cuts her off> No. Sorry, ma'am, but you were told the situation, and you bought them anyway, and drank them, we can't refund the cost.
EW: <Insert more snarling/ranting/swearing to get us fired, burned at the stake and hung for treason, etc, etc...again...the usual...>
We gave her our corporate number, but MOD already sent them an email apprising them of the cooler incident, so as soon as she left, he was writing off another email and sending it to our district manager. So far, no word that she's been rewarded, we're getting fired, or of firewood being gathered, so I think we're safe.
Variations on a theme...
so, our registers are set up so we swipe credit cards on the actual machine (so we can verify ID, etc) and debit cards have their own machine to swipe on. Unfortunately, it's two different keys I push, and I have to set it up. On the debit machines, we have HUGE printed signs, saying "Debit Cards Here ONLY" and still people start swiping and doing whatever before I can set up the machine. Generally, I'll ask, "Is that debit or credit?" And these are some of the more...colorful responses I've gotten...
SC1: None of your business! I already ran it!
Me: Actually, ma'am, it isn't run until I set up the program to run, so...credit or debit?
SC1: Debit!!
OR
SC2: It doesn't matter! <Cheerfully swipes before I can do anything and plunks the card back into the wallet/purse o' doom.
Me: Um...I have to set up the machine, ma'am, I need the card so it can be run again.
SC2: <Huffs> Well, you're pretty useless then, aren't you?
Me: :Confused:
OR
SC3: Credit! <Swipes, and when nothing happens, KEEPS swiping!!>
Me: I'm sorry, sir, I need to run credit cards up here, on a separate--
SC3: I told you, it's credit!!!
Me: I know, sir, I need to--
SC3: Your F@%ING machine is BROKEN!!
Me: Well, let me run it straight through the register then, shall I, and manually push it through?
SC3: Fine! <Finally sees the sign> What? Debit only here?Why didn't you say something before??!!!11?!?
Me:
Seriously, I'm NOT askign for my health, people, if you want the transaction completed answer the damn question and stop acting like I'm trying to steal your soul!!!
And finally..."Stop ogling my ass!!"
So, we're in the middle of returns here at the store, meaning we've got boxes and pallets of books EVERYWHERE. In the aisles, on the endcaps, on the counter, etc. As such, we generally keep the section closed off, since it's a safety issue for customers. Had a guy come in looking for a book, and when I found out it was in an aisle containing a pallet, I told him I'd get it for him. He follows me, ( i didn't realize this). I climb the pallet, bend over the shelves and snag the book. It was literally the ONLY way to get to it, because there wasn't walking room in this section of the store.
I bring the book back, and hand it to him, and apologize for the delay.
Him: That's all right, I was enjoying the view!
Me: Uh...what...?
Him: You have a VERY lovely ass...
Me: ....
Him: Seriously, it's beautiful
Me: ....???
Him: So...how often are you here? <He says, with a strange gleam in his eye>
Me: Uh...you can pay for your book at the front registers, sir, thankyouforshoppingwithushaveagoodday,ohlook,Igoov ertherenowandstockbooks!! kthxbye!! <Flees>
I...don't quite know what to make of it, but he was really obsessed with my butt. Thankfully, he hasn't been back in the store, and I was able to point him out to the textbook manager, who says next time he's there, if I'm there, I'll have a special project in the back room until he's gone...
That's all for now, I'll try to post a few more stories tonight!! Off to lunch with a friend, who's starting to stare laser beams into my back...Laters!!
the Lupo
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